


And the Sun Rose Red

by christchex



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Kissing Kate Barlow AU, Wherein the author shows that she obnoxiously loves deserts, outlaw au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christchex/pseuds/christchex
Summary: When she closed her eyes she could still see the flames. They flickered bright against her eyelids. She could feel the heat on her face as she tried desperately to run towards the burning wreckage of her home, of her life. Her throat still burned from the smoke, from her desperate yelling as she realized that there was more than just liquor in that bar.Or,Maria is an outlaw at the end of her reign and her past haunts her. (A Kissing Kate Barlow AU).





	And the Sun Rose Red

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a conversation in the groupchat about how Michael fixes things, especially for Isobel and Maria… and then I said “I can fix that” and then my brain spiraled and here we are, a few thousand words later. I really love Holes, both the book and the movie, so I hope I did that storyline justice. I also hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> **Warnings and clarifications:** race does play a large part in the story, in the town’s treatment of Maria, their view of the relationship, etc. At the same time I refuse to use any terminology that would have been in use in the time period, so any actual commentary by the racist locals may seem downplayed and subdued. Because it is, but not as an attempt to downplay and disrespect the country’s history of racism, systemic and overt, and those who still feel the lasting legacy of it, rather because I refuse to give it any type of platform or respectability even within my silly fanfic. If you would like a full rundown of themes, phrases used, or imagery, please feel free to contact me in the comments or [over at my tumblr](http://christchex.tumblr.com).

When she closed her eyes she could still see the flames. They flickered bright against her eyelids. She could feel the heat on her face as she tried desperately to run towards the burning wreckage of her home, of her life. Her throat still burned from the smoke, from her desperate yelling as she realized that there was more than just liquor in that bar.

When she closed her eyes and laid out underneath the stars she could still hear Michael’s screams over the roar of the flames and angry yells of the mob.

Maria did not sleep often anymore, not at night, not in the silence. She took last watch, right as the sun started to reach the horizon and bathed the desert in deep red. It was the red of flames, the red of blood. It made Maria feel at home. It was a color of death and Maria DeLuca had made death her business.

She stared into the darkness and tried to ignore the snores around her, ignore the slither of the Kingsnakes and scuttle of the mice. The sheep and the wolves stayed clear of their camp, warned away by the sounds of humans and the sight of fire. Out of the corner of her eye she could see flashes of orange in the black as a coral snake skirted the edges of their camp. She ignored the deadly animal and turned her face back toward the fire.

The days were bad but they were full of other kinds of screams, screams of panic and desperation and fear all for her. In the day she was feared and fearsome. She took what she wanted, whether it was at a bank, a saloon, or a wagon camp. It was the nights she hated, and nights like these were worse.

“He loved the stars so much,” she said into the night, aware that only one possible person could hear her. “He would go out as far as he could just to watch them in peace. He’d bring me out sometimes, just to sit there in the emptiness. He’d tell me all these things that I could barely understand.” She smiled sad, and looked over to the bedrolls.

Alex laid there awake, eyes wide and face blank. His face was always blank since she found him again. She knew his nights were full of horrors too, different than hers. Where her dreams held fire, his held smoke- the remnants of a smoking barrel and the cries of his people as he was forced to fire.

“He took me once,” he said into the night, not sitting up. “It was really all we could have, my father made sure of that one.” She could hear him rustling behind him, she could hear a huff of breath that she knew was his laugh. “We barely got to smile at each other before my father intervened. It’s a nice memory though, I can see why you’d think on it. It makes the night a little brighter.”

“Yeah,” Maria whispered. Ahead of her the fire died down to embers.

-

Michael Guerin walked into The Wild Pony with a swagger and a sneer. It was how he generally walked everywhere, as if he were trying to warn away everyone and anyone.

“Whiskey?”

“Double, if you don’t mind DeLuca.”

Maria nodded as she turned to grab the well whiskey. She knew better than to give Guerin any of the good stuff.

She slid him his glass and moved further down the bar where Kate Long had settled at her brother’s side. Her eyes never strayed from Guerin’s profile. Maria rolled her eyes and grabbed a new glass to fill for Wyatt.

Guerin sipped from his glass and glanced around the saloon. In the corner laid the pieces of the table and chairs that had been broken the week before, when a bounty hunter had come running through and had mistaken the Green Brothers for criminals.

“Hey DeLuca,” he called once Maria turned away from the Longs. “Ever gonna fix those?” He nodded to the corner. “Pretty sure you could do more business if there were some place for the fine folks of this town to sit.”

“Don’t use that tone with me Guerin, I know how you feel but we both need those fine folks for our livelihoods now don’t we?”

Guerin shrugged and took another sip of his whiskey.

Maria stopped in front of him and grabbed a glass for herself. “You ain’t ranching this year? You’d normally be making your way up those mountains by now.”

Michael shrugged again and flexed his left hand around his glass. “Yeah well, last year didn’t go so great with a busted hand. Gotta find my fortune elsewhere now.” He looked at the broken wood in the corner again. “You know, I can fix that.”

“Can you now?”

“I’m pretty good with my hands,” he winked. “Don’t let what I just said fool you. I can have those fixed up and replaced, no problem.”

“And what is it gonna cost me Guerin?”

“We’ll do our usual deal?”

“You’re only offering because your tab is running high.”

“I’m only offering DeLuca because I actually like you.”

He downed the rest of his whiskey and stood up.

“I’ll see you at week’s end,” he called as he left.

-

The desert rolled on for miles in front of them, the last town still a good two days ride away. The desert grass offered little by way of feed for the horses and the group felt the quick trip out of town and lack of preparation as they wandered through the desert low on supplies.

She felt more than heard Alex walk up to her. Their horses were taking cover in the shadows of the rocky terrain and the rest of the gang passed around a slowly dwindling skin of water.

“She’s going to get us killed,” he said, eyes trained on curly blonde hair in the distance. The girl, Tess, had joined up along with a gentleman that Maria never bothered learning the name of, he was dead before the night was over. Maria didn’t stand for the kind of talk he spouted, the actions he claimed. He was dead and they got Tess and she had to admit that Alex may have a point.

“She’s young still,” she reasoned, despite her own misgivings. “Needs to learn patience.”

“You do know I can tell when you’re saying something for shits, right?” She threw him a smile and he shook his head. “She does need patience, you’re right about that, but I see it in your eyes. You think she takes risks too.”

Risks like shooting a deputy when he wasn’t even looking their way. Risks like calling attention to them long before they wanted it.

“I wasn’t even close to the bank Maria,” he looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “She thinks she’s got something to prove, and with any other group and any other leader, I’d get that. But she’s been with us for months and she still looks to Harding as if he’s the one with the answers, still trying to get his approval. He’s been acting wilder too, no doubt from her attention.”

Maria looked out into the desert again, at the long distance of rocks and sand, the black lines of the coral snakes getting curious at their horses. She wondered at their usual daytime appearance, but put it out of her mind.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, “but there’s nothing we can do out here now. They’ll both get the choice, Tess and Harding both. Stay and follow directions or leave and work on their own.” She raised her voice so that it would carry. “Grab those horses, we’ve got ground to cover.”

She watched as the snakes burrowed back under the sand, their movements quick until all that could be seen were the final flicks of their tails.

-

“I can fix that.”

“Not sure I have enough whiskey to cover this one,” Maria said as she stared at the broken pane of glass. The rock that had done the damage say in the middle of the saloon. The glass around it glittered in the sunlight. Maria refused to let the tears fall.

“You’d think they’d leave you alone, they all drink here.” Guerin stood at her side, gaging the damage. “But fucking course not, not these upstanding Christian.”

“How dare we own a business, instead of cleaning up their shit.”

“I think that’s the most amount of venom I’ve ever heard you spit DeLuca,” Guerin said as he walked into the building, glass crunching under his boots. “Have to say, I think I like it.”

He winked at her and Maria rolled her eyes. At least Guerin was always predictable.

He continued to walk through the saloon, just looking. He walked close to the window and looked at the wood and where the glass pane used to be.

“You might not have enough whiskey,” he said once he finally turned back to Maria. She had grabbed a broom and was starting to clean up the glass. “But I’m pretty sure I can help you with that window for less than my usual fee.”

Maria looked at him, suspicious. “And how exactly are you going to do that? You suddenly a glazer on top of being a carpenter and a cowboy?”

“No DeLuca,” he said with a laugh as he took his normal seat at the bar. “But, Max and Isobel did just get a new glass for their front windows. They’re real big and I’m sure it would fit fine in here.”

“Why’d they go and get new glass?”

Guerin laughed again. “You met Isobel right? It wasn’t perfect, she needed it to be perfect.” He smiled a small crooked smile, the one he rarely wore because it was real. “They’re not doing anything with it, and I know Max would love for it to go to something good.”

“That’s too much Guerin.” Maria shook her head and took the stool next to him. “Don’t know if I’d ever be able to repay you.”

Guerin turned that sad smile on her one more time.

“The folks in this town can be mean. They say they’re god-fearing Christians but all they really fear is anyone who isn’t exactly like them.” She could see his left hand, scared and damaged for life and she wondered not for the first time how it came to be. “I can take a good guess as to who did this and I’d do anything to make up for the bad he’s done. They’re nothing to repay DeLuca.” He left his right hand find hers and gave it a squeeze before he stood up and made his way across the floor. “Besides, I’d hate to drink with a draft on my back.”

On that word, he put his black hat back on his head and walked out the door.

-

“You know, I think I may be cursed.”

Maria hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out all the same. She and Alex were curled up with a bottle of tequila in the back of the most recent wagon they stole. The loot was being loaded on their horses, old and newly acquired, and Alex had grabbed her for a moment.

Their band was down three but it had only made them quick and hard to follow. Alex was still at her side through it all.

“And why do you think that now?” 

They weren’t that far into the bottle, but the sun was strong and Maria spent a lot less time down the neck of the bottle than she did when she was a respectable member of society without a bounty on her head.

“Everyone leaves me, you know?” Her words slurred slightly, but that was less the tequila and more the tired. Her nightmares were worse the closer they got to Roswell. “I just got Tess and she left with Harding and took Henry with them.” She curled up closer to him despite the heat. “Heard Jonesy and Lily talking too, you know? They want to try and settle down soon, head into Mexico. They don’t keep slaves and Lily won’t be taken back.”

She’d been thinking about it a lot lately, about the words she spat at the crowd as she saddled her horse and left that god-damned town. A curse on the town, on the stretch of lake it sat on, on the people who decided that flame was the only answer, as if love was a thing to be killed by fire.

The wagon was plush, upholstered in brocade and garish in the face of the natural splendor outside, bright yellows and oranges against the sandy reds and browns of the rock cliff they sat upon. Stripes of black could be seen, and in the shadows Maria swore she could see the quivering body of a snake ill at rest.

“You’re not cursed Maria,” Alex said with a roll of his eyes that moved his entire body. “You know, back in the last gang I ran with, they’d used to say that this was no life to live, not if you wanted to live long.” His body burned a hot line where it hit hers. “You’re not cursed. Not everyone leaves you. Or if they do, I promise they don’t want to.” He gave her a sad smile. “He would never have left you, if he could’ve helped it.”

Maria closed her eyes to the pain and enjoyed the comfort of her best friend besides her. Behind her eyelids the sight of the flames still licked her face and the smell of the burnt wood still stung. Behind her eyelids, she could pretend she had enough time to save him.

She opened her eyes. The sunlight burned where it blazed through the open carriage door.

“Come on, let’s go share with the others.”

She closed her eyes one more time and tried to remember the honey colored eyes and how they looked in the sunlight, how they looked at her.

The sunlight burned red as her closed eyes faced the sun, they burned orange at the corner, there were stripes of black.

-

Maria laughed at the comment Mimi threw her way from her card table in the corner. The night was slow, some dance at the local church taking the usual patrons to their families and away from their drinks. Guerin was sitting at his usual place at the bar, though he had a book in hand where normally there was a glass.

“Careful Guerin,” she laughed as she set a finger of whiskey in front of him, “or I might start thinking you have hidden depths.

He just laughed and shook his head. “Just trying to keep up with the world, you know? Plus, if she catches me reading Kate Long doesn’t come and talk my ear off. Doesn’t want to ‘disturb me’ as if she cares any other time.” He shook his head again, though this time with much less amusement. “Don’t know why she won’t just leave me to drink in peace.”

Maria just stared at him, bemused.

“You really don’t know?”

“I really don’t know,” he replied as he put down his book and picked up his whiskey.

“You know, after all these years of knowing you I thought you were probably one of the smartest men around here? You don’t show it, and boy do you try to hide it at every opportunity, but I could see it. But this?” Maria laughed as she grabbed his glass from him and took a sip. “This has to be the dumbest you’ve ever been.”

“Now you’re just saying that to hurt me DeLuca.”

“She’s got her eye on you Guerin, has for a long time. You choosing to not notice or do you really not know when someone’s sweet one you?”

Guerin snatched his glass back and finished what was left, his face dark. “Oh, trust me when I say I know when there’s interest.”

“So what’s with the blind spot now?”

“Maybe I only notice when I have some interest too?”

Maria snorted as she refilled his glass. She heard voices over at the table near the stairs but ignored it for a moment, the Green brothers always got rowdy when they had some ale.

“So you’ve got no interest in Kate Long and her family’s farm?”

Guerin smirked and held Maria’s gaze. His hand brushed hers lightly as he grabbed his now full glass. “Maybe my interests lie elsewhere.”

A loud crash broke the moment, broke the haze Maria felt in her mind at Guerin’s words and the slight tingle in her fingers at Guerin’s touch. She looked up to see three spindles from her railing now on the floor.

Guerin gave her his small, private smile and said, “I can fix that.”

-

The buttes offered a safety that Maria hadn’t felt in years, not since warm skin wrapped her up and soft lips kissed her tender. The fire burned low, the night near the darkest part. Any moment now Alex would wake with a yell. Any moment now Maria would give in, stop staring at the dying fire as if the glowing embers could give her any peace. There was no protection in the flame, just necessity and pain.

The clouds hid the stars so thoroughly that Maria could nearly forget they were there, some storm brewing as if nature herself knew about the storm brewing in Maria and wanted the rest of the world to reflect it back. She glanced at Alex’s restless figure before she turned back to the clouds. It was down to the two of them, hidden in the red rocks and as hidden as they could manage. A chest of ill-gained treasure rest between them, less for protection and more because neither could figure out what to do with it.

Neither had started this for the gold. Neither particularly cared about it beyond taking it from those who would rather watch people starve then do their Christian duty. Both would rather leave the men half dead, curses on their tongues as they spat about the evils of women, of Natives, of how both should have known their place” below them, subhuman and subservient.

Even two years out Maria took great pleasure in ridding those of their tongue before she rid the world of their villainy.

The rock around them lost its red hue in the night, a color so dark it could be black, a color that looked an awful lot like pooled blood at its darkest. Where the fire glowed, Maria could make out the trails of the animals they disturbed, the footprint of mice, the digs from talons where that mouse was grabbed, the divots of snakes and the place where two became one, where a smaller snake became prey to a coral snake.

Maria looked at her scared hands, even darker than they’d ever been now that she rarely ventured into any dwelling. She could see the faint scars where she grabbed at a burning staircase, where she tried to escape and tried to return. She could hear his cries, his pleads for her to get out, he’d follow, never mind the flaming beam that fell in his path, that lit up the entire stairway and spelled his doom.

She could still hear his last words of love.

She turned away from the embers and brought her face back to the sky. She’d give anything to see the stars, to feel his arms around her as he pointed out the important ones, told her old stories that he learned growing up in a migrant life. She sometimes felt Michael’s lips against her neck, his smile in his hair as he told her that he could fix every wrong thing in her life.

She ignored the tears that burned her eyes, told herself it was just the smoke that wasn’t there. When Alex gave a jerk and an aborted scream, she got up and laid next to him. 

“There’s too much death out there Maria,” Alex said as she held him and his heart slowed down. “Too much death and I know it’s gonna catch up soon.”

“We’ve given him a good runaround,” she replied, voice low as if not to bring death’s attention to them. “When he catches us finally, we’ll have to make sure we earned him.”

She looked into Alex’s eyes and she could see the shine reflecting off his eyes, a gunmetal glint like the sun’s reflection off the barrel of his rifle.

-

“What are we doing out here Guerin?”

Maria’s shawl barely protected her from the desert winds. Michael had brought her out here, the saloon closed for the sabbath and well after church services let out. They were in a section of the desert she didn’t recognize, an hour or so’s walk from the edge of the town, far from the tree cover and the lake their town was built on.

“I wanted to show you something,” he replied as he laid out a blanket she was sure belonged to Isobel Evans-Bracken.

“Something that could only be seen far from civilization?”

“Definitely,” he replied, no-good smile back on his face. He sat down and gestured for her to do the same.

She sat down as respectable distance away from him and sent him a smile.

“Ok Guerin, what did you want to show me?”

He just smiled again, this time his small smile, and nodded his head out into the desert.

She turned to face out into the distance, red rocks glowed warm in the sunset. She watched as the sun went down and the desert exploded into color, the sky a blur of orange into reds into pinks into purples until behind them the dark expanse started to shimmer.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed into the comfortable silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever just watched the sunset like this.”

“Always so busy,” he said back. “Gotta keep this town in their vices, don’tcha?”

She laughed and turned back to face the sunset. She basked in the lingering warmth of the sun and the peripheral heat coming from Michael.

“Thank you, for this.” She said once night fell full and they were illuminated by nothing but the rising moon and the stars.

“it’s been a rough coupla weeks,” he replied. “I know it’s been tough for you, Liz leaving and all. I thought, maybe I could do something to fix it, even a little.”

She moved her hand so that it rest close to his.

“It did.”

-

Their horses skirted the desert around Roswell, skirted the husk of dried-out lake that once brought prosperity to the town. 

Maria wondered when the last time it rained in the valley, the last time the clouds breached the mountains in the distance to give the desert town much needed relief.

She remembered when it used to rain regularly, when there was blue and greens and golds in the world, instead of the rusted out fire-brand of a landscape she’d been living in for years. She remembered cursing the town, cursing the people, cursing nature herself in her agony. She remembers the sight of The Wild Pony as it crumbled and caught the dry pine needles before they turn burst into flame. The green turned red and Maria ran.

Maria turned her head to face Alex as he rode next to her, head tilted back as if he could catch a glimpse of their tail. A military man had been on them for days now, a man who recognized Alex for the deserter he was. A man who wanted the bounty that his head would give, the gold something that could let his family live for years.

He was washed out in the high-noon sun, almost bleached under the sun despite his deep tan and his dark complexion. Long ago she’d known his mother, known her heritage, but it was easy to forget in a town that wanted nothing to do with the people who lived on the land before their barns were raised and the town built-up. It was impossible to forget now, when he looked so much like his mother and had a sadness and an anger that was never there when they were young and ran through the forest out behind his house.

“I can’t keep running like this,” he said, eyes still dark and in the past. “It’s coming on more and more, night brings no peace anymore.”

“It hasn’t brought either of us peace in years.”

He laughed in agreement, a broken brittle thing.

She couldn’t remember the last time either of them felt genuine joy.

Outlaw’s didn’t last long, and she spent every night surprised that they lived at all. For not the first time that day she thought about her bitter words as Michael and her home went up in flames. She’s not convinced she didn’t curse herself that day too.

They moved through the desert, bigger than it was when she flew out of town with the devil on her back. She remembers the woods extended further, she could see the burnt remains where the emergent layer and the canopy once existed, where now there was only undergrowth and desert grass. Even they looked black, as if the soot never left, as if nature itself still felt the scars of the fire that burned bright for days, the fire that burned away her life, burned her hands and her heart, and offered her cover as she ran.

She adjusted her black hat and looked forward at the horizon. She could see an outcrop in the middle distance and brought it to Alex’s attention.

“It’s gonna be crawling with coral snakes once sun sets,” he said once they reached the rock formation.

“They’re reclusive,” she shrugged back. “Long as we don’t try to touch them, they’ll leave us be.”

“Gotta say,” he responded, black tone to his voice, “it wouldn’t be the worst way to go, if I had to choose.” His face was grim. Both their faces were grim these days. “This isn’t a life you live for long.” 

She just looked at him. She helped him set up camp.

-

She’d closed down The Pony well before normal last call. She didn’t have the energy to corral drunk patrons tonight, not while her mother was laid up in bed. Not while she could barely remember the year, could barely remember her daughter. She couldn’t plaster on a smile for a town full of people who didn’t particularly care that a woman was dying because she wasn’t  _ their kind _ . Who cares that they’ve known her for years, had been coming to her for years. Not, all that mattered was that there was one less  _ other  _ in town to sully their reputation.

Christ, even the town doctor didn’t want to come out to see her, and they’d played poker together for years.

Maria sat at the bar with a glass in hand and lamented the fact that her mother and her mother’s mother chose to settle here. She lamented the town’s bigotry and their hypocrisy and tried not to think too deeply about any of it.

She heard the swing of the door behind her, but she didn’t look up.

“We’re closed,” she called out. The candles weren’t lit and she hadn’t even bothered to get out the gas lanterns at all. The bar was dark. It hid the tears on her face better that way.

“I know,” she heard Michael say, barely audible over the thud of his boots on the rough wood floor. “I heard about Mimi though. I had to stop by.”

Maria didn’t lift her head at all. She kept her eyes on her glass, head down so that the tears pooled together on the bar top.

“The good doctor said not to expect her to live out the season,” she finally said once Michael pulled up a stool next to her.

She felt his hand on her arm, wrapped around her back. He pulled her in close, nice and gentle.

“I’m sorry Maria,” he whispered into her hair. He pulled back so that he could see her face. He wiped a tear from her cheek. “I can’t fix this,” he said, voice soft, a secret between their lips. “But I can try.”

He leaned in and kissed her.

_ - _

A black shape broke the unending horizon, a break in an endless sea of red rock, yellow sand. Red and yellow can kill a fellow. It wasn’t just a rhyme for snakes. A small black stripe that was slowly growing in the distance. She looked over at Alex, his eyes tired, bruised under his eyes from a lack of sleep and an increase in nightmares.

“Well,” he said, “I guess we found the devil on our back.”

They had ran into the desert in hopes of escaping the military man, but as Maria looked at the figure she could see the gleam from his uniform buttons, she could see the sun glint off the rifle strapped to his back. No doubt he had a pistol at his side, ready to shoot as he drew nearer.

The sun on Maria’s neck felt like burning, had felt more and more like flames the longer they tried to run, the more she tried to forget, the closer they got to the town she ran from because they’d been making a slow loop around, as if they both knew they were reaching the end of something. Figures it would end where everything seemed to begin.

They had no water, had barely made it from their last hidden outcrop with their skin intact at all. If they ran now, the glint of the man’s rifle would just keep following them. He had them on their heels and he knew it. He had all the time in the world.

She watched as Alex watched the man, watched as Alex followed the slight sway of the gun. The closer it came, the stronger the nightmares.

Maria knew what it was like, you’d do anything to get them to end.

Her black hat barely hid her eyes from the sun. All she could see was red, was yellow, was black. If she closed her eyes she could feel the coil of a snake around her neck, feel rope around her neck. She could feel a touch on her arm, feather light and warm. She could feel Michael’s arms around her, telling her he could fix whatever was broken. 

He could fix everything but her broken heart.

She felt the hand on her arm tightened. She doesn’t know how long it took her to realize Alex had called her name.

“You gotta go Maria,” he said, no desperation in his voice, only resignation and acceptance. This isn’t a life you live for long. She could hear his words whispered on the wind, on a memory more recent than the ones she was used to living in.

“Alex,” she started but fell silent. Her mouth was too dry. There was too much fire in her, too much consuming her whole, to speak.

“He’s military, he won’t care too much about you as long as he gets me. If we’re together he’ll gladly take the bounty on you too. So let’s not give him the chance, yeah?”

He smiled at her. For the first time since they found each other a little over a year before, he looked at peace.

Maria turned her horse in a different direction and started off, a slow amble away.

She doesn’t know the time or the distance between them when she heard the gunshot ring out into the desert before it turned silent again.

She closed her eyes and could see the red, the yellow, and the blood that turned it all to black.

_ - _

Maria smiled down the bar at Michael who was back to reading. It was one of those times when he read because he wanted to, because he was fascinated by whatever was between those pages. He turned the page and looked up. He smiled back at Maria as she moved out to clear a table.

She moved in a chair and gave a sound of fright. On the floor slithered a small snake, red and black. She backed away and into a body behind her.

“Relax,” Michael laughed into her ear. “Red and yellow, can kill a fellow.” He bent down to pick up the snake and showed her the scaled. “Red and black, friend of Jack. Or friend of Maria, in this case.”

He pressed a hand to the small her back, the hand that didn’t have a snake coiling around it. He lead her and the snake over to the door and let the snake slither away on to the wood decking in front of her saloon before it disappeared between the cracks.

“Nothing to fear,” he said with a smile, hand still low on her back and eyes full of affection. “Besides, corals are reclusive, wouldn’t be out during the day like that, definitely not where it had no place to hide.”

He ushered her back inside and to the bar. He went back to his stool and she moved around to her position at the bar. He grabbed her hand and lifted it so that he could press a light kiss to her palm.

“Now tell me everything I’ve missed while I’ve been away.”

She laughed at his behavior. “You were gone for two days, if that at all. Not much trouble could happen in that time, even here.”

“Nothing, you sure?”

He kept his hand around hers and she smiled.

“Well, I did hear that Kate Long was in a huff the other day.” She laughed at the memory of her face, beat red and angry, black lines from smeared kohl down her cheeks. Her fine yellow dress was wrinkled from where her hands were bunched into the fabric.

He tightened his grip on her hand for a moment and then laughed, a sheepish thing she can’t remember having heard from him before.

“Can’t say that’s news to be, seeing as I’m why she was in such a huff.” At her curious expression he continued. “You were right, she did have an interest in me, ask me if she could stop sometime so that we might take a walk, get to know each other. I kindly told her I already had a sweetheart,” he turned a sweet smile on her. “Can’t say she was thrilled, but also can’t say I care too much. I’m plenty happy with what I got.”

She smiled back at him, cheeks warm with happiness.

-

The closest town, one that wasn’t Roswell, was a three days ride away from where she lay. It was another outcrop, but she knew the rock shape as she knew nothing else. He used to lay a blanket out, smooth out the corners and he always got sand all over it and Maria never minded it. She didn’t mind the sand now either, she could barely feel it. She could barely feel anything beyond the burn of her skin, the sting in her eyes, and the smoke in her mouth. She could barely hear anything beyond the crackle of a fire, the sound of jeers from people she’d known her whole life, the sound of a gunshot as it got swallowed by the desert.

She hurt like she’d never hurt before, or like she’d been hurting for years really. She had finally stopped running and it had snuck up on her.

The devil at her back indeed.

She didn’t look out into the desert, she didn’t want to see the night turn the sands dark, she didn’t want to see the colors in the night sky or the stars above her. She didn’t have much left, a chest at her side and a horse who would soon realize she wasn’t tied down and was free to go.

She’d felt that freedom, once. A freedom of possibility and she’d felt it shrivel in flames.

She wouldn’t look around, she wouldn’t be able to bare the sight of anything now. She could barely see anything beyond her memory and beyond the constant ache.

She had finally stopped running and it hurt more than she realized. Time and distance didn’t help much when you had nothing else. All she had was time behind her and an insurmountable distance and a chest of treasure that couldn’t ever be enough to get back what was stolen.

She had a shovel and a chest and the knowledge that the life she was living doesn’t tend to last all that long.

“Can’t even really call this living,” she said into the sky. “Guess I really am cursed, huh?” The only response she got was the rattle of a snake in the distance and the frightened squeal of a trapped rodent.

She kept her eyes closed as she lay on her back. The stars held no comfort now. She didn’t bother to build up a fire, she’d be on the move soon. There was an expanse of dried up lake, still soft enough to dig and fill in without anyone much noticing, her chest would be fine out there.

No light shined behind her eyelids, no red to haunt her now. The night was chilly and she couldn’t even pretend to feel his warmth on her anymore, not out there where they’d watch the sunset, where he’d tell her stories, where she had fallen a little more in love with each breath. She had burned for so long that there was almost a comfort in the chill, how it reached down into her bones and made her feel as numb physically as she had been emotionally for years.

“Where have all the good men gone?” She asked into the sky. She had asked Michael that once, right after her Mama had passed and the town barely blinked, let alone mourned. She remembered when the Evans parents had passed. The town had shut down to go to their funeral. Michael had just held her and told her there were still some good ones out there in the world.

“Where have all the good men gone, indeed,” she said one more time before she forced herself up, forced the shovel to her hand and the chest to the other, before she forced herself to walk into the night. She knew the answer anyway.

They ended up in flames or shot down in the middle of an endless desert. Either way, they died in red.

-

Maria woke to smoke. She doesn’t know what woke her, perhaps the sound of shattered glass or that intuition her mother always insisted they shared. Either way she woke to smoke. It burned at her lungs as she gasped and spilled from the bed. 

She couldn’t see much, not with the black smoke everywhere. She dropped to the floor and could feel how warm it was.

“Michael,” she yelled, but she could hear his own thump as he rolled off the bed and hit the floor.

“Fuck,” he said as he crawled his way to her and toward the door. Neither knew how long the building had been burning.

He pushed open the door and they could see flames as it consumed the tables and chairs of the saloon, as it climbed the far walls.

“We have to make a run for it,” Michael said next to her, voice already hoarse from the smoke. She could barely see his eyes with how bad hers stung. “We’ll just have to go and hope for the best, ok?” He asked as he took hold of her hand. “No matter what, ok? Just run. I need to make sure you’re safe.”

She brought their joined hands to her face so he could feel her nod.

“No matter what, you get to safety,” he said as he pushed the door open. “Run!”

She ran. She ran down the stairs and out the door. She could feel the flames on her back, feel their heat on her cheeks, on her whole body. She could barely breathe as she ran through the door to safety outside. She hadn’t even cleared the porch when she turned in search of Michael.

He wasn’t there. She started back toward the door. She could see a beam, consumed by flames, across the stairs, up too high to give even a small space to crawl through, a space to jump from the stairs to the flame-filled barroom. She thought she could see Michael’s barefoot as it hit across the beam, headless of the flames or maybe too desperate for escape that he didn’t care.

She could hear his screams.

She felt arms around her, felt them pull her back out of the building and onto the dirt road. She turned and saw Sheriff Valenti.

“We have to go in there,” she said. Her voice could barely be heard about the crackle of wood and the loud voices of the townspeople in the background. “Michael’s still in there!”

“If anyone goes back in there Maria, they ain’t coming back out.” He shook his head. “We’ll try and douse the flames but no one’s going in there.”

She tried to pry his arms away from her, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’m sorry Maria,” was all he said.

They watched The Wild Pony burn, and Maria’s life burned with it.

She watched as they failed to quench the fire. She watched as the trees surrounding her home caught flame too. She watched, fire reflecting in her eyes even as she closed them, heat burning into her skin, into her bones.

She felt so cold.

She watched and listened. She heard when the anguished screams from inside the building stopped. She heard as the crowd behind her mumbled about good riddance, about how she should have been in the fire as well. She heard how Kate Long said that it was better that he died in flames, that way he could purify whatever spell  _ that witch had put upon him _ .

She listened as the truth of their poison, their hatred, spilled from their lips. It burned just as much as the flames, maybe more. She didn’t even notice the blisters on her hands.

She watched and she listened and she raged.

“I hope everything you love burns,” she screamed as she turned towards the assembled crowd. “This whole town will be as dry and as hollow as you!” She moved closer to the crowd, voice rough. It burned to speak. Everything burned now. “Your lives will be full of nothing. Your happiness? Your successes? They’ll just be burnt husks. May your lives turn as black as your heartless souls.”

She ran. She grabbed hold of the reigns of the Sheriff’s horse, mounted, and ran.

_ - _

Maria woke long before they noticed. She kept her eyes closed and just listened to the sound of the man and the woman arguing. They sounded familiar but from somewhere far removed, a distant memory Maria can’t place, not when she’s so tired, so thirsty, so done.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have the sound of screams lingering in her ears. She didn’t know quite what to make of that.

She had fallen asleep around the rocky base of a saguaro cluster somewhere before dawn. The way the sun burned against the back of her eyelids, she imagined it had to be just shy of noon. She knew she should feel the sun on her face, on her exposed skin, but there was nothing.

She opened her eyes to the barrel of a shotgun not one foot away. That close the silver shine reflected the red of the desert floor, the yellow of the burning sun. She could barely focus on the sight. Behind the gun was the man and the woman, familiar too, but still distant like a long forgotten memory from a long forgotten life.

“Where is it DeLuca?” The woman asked. Her voice and her straight blonde hair finally clued Maria in.

“Kate Long?” She asked, her eyes refused to stay focused on the sight. They wobbled and went hazy. She swore she saw the reflection of sunlight off of light brown curls. Maria licked her lips. “You look like shit.”

“It’s Kate Gibbons now,” was the response before the shotgun was pushed back into her vision. “Where is it?” 

“I have no idea what you’re looking for,” was Maria’s response. Hank and Kate Gibbons just asked again.

She let her gaze drift. Her eyes flitted from the gun, the sun’s reflection strong off the metal, to the shadow of the saguaro, to the dust expanse beyond. Here and there she saw a curl, a smile, the flash of a honey-brown eye.

“I won’t ask you again,” Hank yelled as Maria’s mind wandered. “Where’s your treasure?”

Maria could only laugh.

“My treasure is dead, you made sure of it.”

“We know you robbed a stagecoach two weeks back. We know you’re left on your own, your partners dead or bolted. Where’s your gold?”

Maria gestured out to the desert.

“It’s there,” she said as her eyes slid to the side, to the swish of a tail poking from out of the sand. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Michael, that day at The Pony and the snake. Then she tried to picture Michael at all. All she saw was red.

With effort she swung her attention back to Hank and Kate. “It’s out here,” she said with effort. It wasn’t smoke in her lungs anymore but dust. “It’s out there, somewhere in this god-damned desert.” She felt a weight on her hand, tiny scales moved, a muscular movement up her arm. “I’m not ever gonna tell you where it is.”

“You’re dying anyway,” Kate said harsh. Everything was harsh now, even the people who once thought themselves above it. “You won’t need it.”

Maria kept her eyes on them, she could tell the moment they noticed the snake. Kate jumped back.

“Shit,” she said, breathless. “Now you’re really dead.”

“Maybe so,” was Maria’s reply. She shut her eyes and allowed herself to think of the good times, of the stars above and a time when an endless desert didn’t hurt so much. Her arm where the snake lay suddenly felt warm, like a gentle hand laid there to offer some comfort.

A slight breeze blew, moved a strand of hair that had fallen out of its hold. It moved like a caress over her skin. She let her eyes open and they fell on Kate Gibbons.

“You ain’t never gonna find it,” she said, careless and with glee. “You could dig every day and you will never find it. Your children and your children’s children could dig their entire lifetime, and it will never be found. Not by you anyway.”

Maria moved her arm. She allowed the snake to slither to her shoulder, across her neck. It didn’t feel anything like what she imagined.

“Red and yellow kill a fellow,” she laughed, maniacal. “This one might just be a friend of mine.”

She grabbed the snake and moved it so that its mouth and fangs were right over her wrist. She opened its mouth with her free hand.

“You better start digging.” 

The snake bit. Maria closed her eyes. As the black started to blend into the sun lit red, she swore she saw a loving smile, warm eyes. She swore she heard a whisper.

_ I can fix that. _

She smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had this fic in my head for weeks now. At first it was just the whole "I can fix that" aspect... but I really like westerns. And I really like outlaws. And honestly? Any excuse to look at really pretty pictures of the night sky in the desert was enough for me to expand it to show the two ends of the story.
> 
> There's a very good chance that at some point I write about Maria as an outlaw, as a stagecoach robber and a bank robber, and how she and Alex found each other... and then continued to be outlaws together because, have I mentioned I'm a sucker for westerns??????


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